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Comfort in Reverse

By Éan BirdPublished 4 months ago Updated 4 months ago 1 min read
2
Back to the Start
Photo by Chandler Cruttenden on Unsplash

You want a poem about comfort? Here

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Words delivered on accident. What celebrated

excuses made to inquire, claw past curiosity

overflowing in baskets of flowers

curtains moved, eyes peep through, to a home

Sleep beholds temper within us

Comfort rests on lids best closed.

.

Now for word limit.

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I once knew comfort. I knew it real good. I wooed it under a stairwell. Comfort petted, comfort called pretty. I vowed comfort forever. Until my husband sat me down at the kitchen table to make a decision. I chose leaving, in the end.

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I would have taught forever. Even after winning the lottery. I would have magic field tripped through the universe. I would have spun and spun and spun under hand crafted flags like that lady on the side of a mountain singing some auf wiedersehen alphabet. If asked, I would have repeated it one thousand times over.

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But something happened after a Friday in March, and I awoke screaming in a classroom. Now, I can’t remember who or what is responsible for pressing the designator. Because it all imploded into prismatic clouds of glass. Poof. Nothing left. No pieces to duck tape back together.

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Comfort does not exist.

It goes both ways.

Composed backwards.

.

33

fact or fiction
2

About the Creator

Éan Bird

Reluctant Writer. Teacher.

Hawking vocal contests for love letters.

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  • Melissa Ingoldsby4 months ago

    Hmm so very introspective I enjoyed that

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